The Inner Journey Continues With An Old Birdhouse, a Little Bird and a Portal

A little bird told me to have faith, believe, and be positive.

 
It happened yesterday morning when I was rushing around the house getting ready for my day. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flutter, and there she was. A sweet little bird atop an old, battered birdhouse that I had impulsively nailed to one of the posts on my front porch last fall.

a little bird reminded me about the joys of being oneself

A friend of mine who works in the grounds department on the large corporate campus where we work asked me if I wanted the old birdhouse. He was cleaning up for winter and he knows I love birds.

But I thought the little house was a piece of junk. It was barely nailed together after years of wear and tear from the Illinois winters. It was literally falling apart. It was full of dirt, old nesting materials, and infested with dead insects. It wasn’t at all cute — like what you see in magazines — and I was struggling to find any merit in this decrepit item. Yet, I must admit I was slightly charmed — though still hesitant.

I have always loved the very simple architecture of bird houses and their classic shapes and forms. Most of all I’ve always been drawn to the little hole in birdhouses –the portal –the circular doorway leading to another world where creativity, beauty, birth, and life exist inside the comfort of a little nest. I have to say, the shape and form of this birdhouse were basic and simple enough to intrigue me. But its overall appearance was just so unappealing. It even had a big crack in it. Surely, I thought, this birdhouse has seen better days.

My friend banged the walls of the little house together on the side of his truck. Somehow he had a much more favorable impression of this common object than I did. He had faith in it while I remained unconvinced. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I just didn’t want one more thing to do. Maybe I just didn’t want another piece of junk to fix up and make beautiful again. Maybe I just did not believe in this silly little birdhouse.

But then my friend said something that made me laugh — and he turned my head around.

“If I were a bird, I would go in there…”

That’s what my friend said as he continued trying to convince me to take the little house home with me. I thought that was the oddest thing I’d heard in awhile. I laughed and thought this little house won’t even make it through the winter! But by now he was cleaning out the contents, brushing it off, tightenng the screw at the bottom, and holding it up for us to gaze at it.

I started to think about what he just said. It was an innocent comment but suddenly it was full of symbolic meaning. Once again, I felt that I had received a message from the wind, from a guardian. I was reminded too how the simplest words can have profound depth — a depth that stuns you into joyous revelation and connection.

You see, I am a bird. I have always thought of myself as a little bird since middle childhood. I secretly named myself Little Bird as a child and birds became my animal spirit guides and teachers. And here was my friend in so many unknowing ways trying to get me to “go in there” to a place where I needed to go.

Isn’t that what I wanted?  To enter that little portal and “go in there” to that world of creativity, birth, life and warmth in the nest? It’s what I yearn for, actively strive towards, and dream of daily. That world is where I am most comfortable, safe, free, and happy.

So…Finally convinced, I put that little birdhouse in my car and took it home.

When I got home, I nailed it to the top of the post on my front porch. People said it was kind of an odd place for a birdhouse but I wanted to be able to see it everyday and be reminded of my dreams and goals. I wanted to be reminded of that portal I needed to enter more often.

All winter the wind blew it to and fro on the post. It rattled in the night. Dozens of days it was covered in snow. Oftentimes I never the saw the birdhouse for days and days as I left in the darkness of morning and came home in the darkness of evening. Many days I even forgot about it.

Nevertheless, all winter I worked on the creative part of my life. Writing, drawing, designing, painting, planning, organizing and cleaning, and then creating some more. I visited museums and attended cultural events for inspiration, sought out new music to listen to, and replenished my art supplies. I built this website. Took hundreds of photographs.  I was comfortable, safe, free and happy.

...there are teachers everywhere...

I entered the portal.

I was Little Bird again.

And then yesterday morning I saw that the old, worn out birdhouse had delivered what it had been promising all along.

A little bird of the feathered kind found it. And began nesting inside it. Just like me.

“If I were a bird, I’d go in there…”

So we did.